


Amnesia

by lillyluna



Category: Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Broken Heart, F/M, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6009795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talan finds out something he wasn't suppose to know.</p><p>(This is way more about Talan than his parents)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amnesia

**Author's Note:**

> Ok
> 
> First of all this isn't canon. This is some crack AU scenario that came up a few times in conversations and wasn't ever suppose to see light of day.
> 
> UNTIL
> 
> Yesterday when I was listening to music while cleaning and Amnesia by 5SoS came on and suddenly I HAD to write this and there wasn't any other alternatives.
> 
> This was written in about three hours. I didn't really proof read it.
> 
> It's a one shot. There won't be other chapters. 
> 
> It's just a bad idea. I'm sorry.
> 
> I'm sorry it isn't Tides.

_“I wish that I could wake up with amnesia_  
And forget about the stupid little things  
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you  
And the memories I never can escape 

_'Cause I'm not fine at all”_

 

It’s a two hour drive back home. 

Talan isn’t even sure he wants to be home but he can’t stay in Gainesville. He can’t stay in his dorm. He can’t stay somewhere where people will know. 

“Man.” His roommate exclaims watching Talan turn the room upside down for his keys, “We got practice. You can’t-” 

Talan finds his keys in the mesh water bottle pocket of his gym bag. He grabs them along with his wallet and his phone before walking out. 

He doesn’t care about practice, he doesn’t care about the game, he doesn’t care about his classes. 

He just wants to leave. 

He hasn’t had a panic attack since high school but one is about to crash down on him. He breaks out into a sweat running down the stairs of his dorm and can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. By the time his feet hit the bottom landing he’s gasping for breath and shaking. 

He doesn’t make it to the parking lot. Instead his knees give out a few steps out of the emergency door and he falls kneeling on the grass. His keys, his wallet and his phone scatter in front of him and he desperately tries to remember ways to make it go away. 

His phone rings; it’s Oliver. 

Talan breathes in, holds his breath for a few seconds before exhaling. He forces himself to do this a dozen more times trying to remember the clock in his therapist’s office, the card he used to carry in his wallet, the waves he’d been taught to visualize. 

His phone rings; it’s Oliver, again. 

He doesn’t bother to hit ignore, he just lets his phone ring until the call gets sent to his already full mailbox. 

Talan can breathe again but the nausea hasn’t faded away. He swallows a few times to keep himself from gagging before he grabs his stuff on the ground. He reaches for his phone just as it begins to ring again. 

Oliver’s face fills the screen, a picture of the both of them in dumb Christmas sweaters from their last holiday break. They’d been in Mexico. Morgan had travelled with them. Oliver had gotten drunk and talked about missing Evan. 

Talan gets up, drops the phone on the ground and stomps on it. He hits the screen with his heel and watches it shatter. He repeats the motion a few more times until the thing stops lighting up. He drops it in the first garbage can he sees. 

He throws up when he gets to his car. It takes fifteen minutes before his hands stop shaking enough to start driving. 

*

Since both boys have left home Ryan’s made it a habit to leave the television on. The noise makes the house feel less empty. 

He’s eating a sandwich when the droning noise of the television catches his attention. 

_“Oliver Phelps-Lochte should be training for the Olympics but our sources tell us he’s just taken a new girlfriend to Bali for a spectacularly romantic holiday. Now here is a guy who sure knows how to wow a girl for Valentine’s Day!” The overly made up host exclaims._

Ryan stops. Looks up at the television and exhales. 

_“These super exclusive shots show us the couple getting intimate in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. This resort is a favourite of the rich and famous but if you want to experience it yourself you can-”_

They’re used to seeing paparazzi photos of Oliver but not used to seeing ones of him kissing Talan’s girlfriend on a private beach. 

“MIKE.” Ryan yells. 

_“We don’t know who the lucky girl is yet but from these picture we can tell that things are getting quite steamy. The couple was even caught-”_

“MIKE JESUS.” Ryan yells, “WHERE-” 

He looks around the living room uselessly for his husband before pausing the television on a shot of Oliver half naked on a hotel balcony with his arms wrapped around an equally half naked Morgan. 

“What?” Michael walks down the stairs, “Why’re you yelling?” 

Ryan points to the television without making another sound. 

“Is that?” Michael squints at the television. 

“Yes.” Ryan confirms.

“With?” Michael looks away from the screen. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “That’s Morgan.” 

“And Tal’s?” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan admits, “I haven’t tried-” 

They both stand speechless in their living room staring up at the zoomed in picture of Oliver on the balcony of his hotel room. 

“Unpause it.” Michael winces, “Fuck.” 

The next shot is the two of them kissing, followed by a much clearer picture of the two of them walking through the airport holding hands. 

“Why would Ols?” Michael asks pained, “I don’t get it.” 

“I don’t think it’s Ols we got to worry about.” Ryan declares, “I’m calling Tal.” 

* 

Without his phone Talan is forced to listen to the radio and the Hollywood News segment of the afternoon news show repeats the story one of his friends had texted him. 

_“Oliver Phelps-Lochte on a surprise honeymoon trip? Find out why we think the Olympic hero might have just secretly married his new girlfriend-”_

Talan speeds. 

For a few minutes he thinks of not going back home. He briefly thinks of bypassing home and going straight to the airport. Of getting a ticket to Hawaii or Costa Rica and disappearing for a bit. He’d have to use his emergency credit card but he’d find a way to pay his parents back. 

Talan guesses that by now his parents know what’s going on. The embarrassment of them knowing almost forces him to turn around but there really isn’t anywhere else to go. Morgan lives in the same dorm, two floors down. Her friends will know, his friends will know, the basketball team will know and fuck half the campus will know. 

Oliver always manages to get what he wants. 

* 

“Baby.” Oliver says uselessly to Talan’s answering machine, “Um I-” 

Oliver doesn’t know what to say. 

“Just hang up.” Morgan says across the room, chewing on the straw from her drink. “You can’t-” 

“Sorry yeah.” Oliver mumbles before hanging up. 

“We broke up.” Morgan reminds him, “We’re not-” 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees. “I know.” 

*

Talan parks behind his dad’s range rover but doesn’t get out of the car. He flicks the radio back on and the air conditioning up a few notches. He takes off his glasses and rubs his face before stretching out his legs as best he can in the driver’s seat. His hip aches dully like it does when he sits for too long. 

He catches the curtain in the living room window close and knows his parents know he’s there. That they’ve probably been waiting, that they’ve guessed he was on his way. 

“Fuck.” He groans, not ready to face them. 

He’d brought Morgan home for the first time when his turtle had died. She’d been with him studying and had tagged along when he’d made a last minute decision to go home and check the rest of his animals were okay. He’d felt impossible guilt that a turtle that was suppose to outlive him had died just four months after he’d left for college. 

Morgan had been his best college friend and on that trip back to Daytona she’d become more. 

She never talked about her home or her family. Had no pictures of them up in the dorm room she shared with a gymnastic girl who was never there. They’d gone their separate ways for Thanksgiving and she’d called him crying begging for a way out of her parent’s house their second day away from Gainesville. 

He’d left to go get her and brought her home. His befuddled dads had tried to make her sleep in the guest room but the arrangement had lasted all of five minutes. In his bed later that night she’d thanked him for making her feel safe. 

His Dads had made a lot of speeches after that weekend. Speeches about not getting serious too fast, about waiting, about being safe, about watching out for himself. 

Talan had listened but had shrugged off all their suggestion on the drive back to Gainesville. Morgan kept her hand on his thigh while they drove and fed him gummy worms. They’d played dumb road trip games and sung along to the radio. It was perfect and Talan was gone. 

A knock on his window takes him out of his daydream. 

“Talan.” Michael’s voice is muffled through the glass, “Go inside Pal.” 

* 

Talan doesn’t talk to them. He changes into an old pair of boardshorts, grabs a towel and a beer from the fridge in the garage and walks down to the beach. He sits in the sand even though it isn’t that warm outside and stares at the waves.

Maybe he should have gone to Hawaii. 

Oliver had left Harvard and wasn’t really doing anything. Not really swimming anywhere not really tied down to anything. He didn’t really have friends so Talan had happily defaulted back to being best friend with his brother. 

He hadn’t even ever bothered to ask Oliver why he was hanging out in Gainesville. Why he was happy to spend evenings with Morgan and him at The Grog or playing beer pong at random frat houses. 

Talan hadn’t ever bothered to worry because it had seemed normal for Morgan and Oliver to be friends too. 

He finishes his beer and uses the bottle to dig through the sand. He wishes the dogs were outside. He wishes it was warmer. He wishes he wasn’t so dumb. 

The sun is halfway set before he hears the back door slide open. A few moments later his Dad sits down beside him. 

“Dinner’s soon.” Ryan tells him, “You gotta be freezing.” 

Talan shrugs. 

“Here.” Ryan hands him a second beer, “We’re gonna-” 

Talan shakes his head as soon as the conversation hints that it’s gearing towards Oliver. Instead he takes a long drink from his bottle. 

“Coming in to eat?” Ryan asks. 

Talan shakes his head. He’s not hungry. 

“Come in though okay?” Ryan suggests, “It’s getting cold.” 

* 

Ryan and Michael haven’t eaten dinner at the kitchen table in months. They tend to eat in front of the television. The kitchen has a better view of the back yard though and from there they can both keep an eye on Talan’s immobile shape set against the beach. 

“He can’t sleep out there.” Ryan worries, “There’s a cold advisory.” 

“39 is not cold.” Michael rolls his eyes, “Fucking Florida.” 

“Make him come in.” Ryan tells him, “He’s gonna freeze.” 

“Or what? You’re gonna sit here all night watching him?” 

“You’re gonna leave him?” Ryan accuses. 

“He’s twenty-two.” Michael rolls his eyes, “If he wants to sleep on the beach-” 

“There’s a cold advisory.” Ryan reminds him, “You’re from Baltimore so whatever you don’t feel cold but he’s from Florida.” 

“Ry it’s Valentine’s Day.” Michael throws out as a last ditch effort to not have to go drag Talan inside.

“When d’you remember that?” Ryan laughs, “Had big plans?” 

“Nothing we can do is going to help.” Michael admits, “We know he’s here so he’s safe. Let the kid get drunk on the beach.” 

On the table in front of them, next to the pitcher of water, Ryan’s cell phone rings. Oliver’s face pops up. 

“Fuck.” Michael exclaims spinning Ryan’s phone to face him. 

“Yeah.” Ryan says bitterly, “Fuck him.” 

Ryan hits ignore faster than Michael can hit talk. They glare at each other across the table.

“Really?” Michael challenges before reaching for his own phone, “When’s the last time he called you?”

“You’re gonna hear his side?” Ryan says shocked, “You’re calling-” 

“Yeah I’m calling.” Michael says getting up, “Since when do we ignore their calls? Fuck Ry.” 

* 

Eventually it becomes too chilly to sit outside in just a t-shirt. When the numbness gives way to teeth chattering cold Talan gets up, grabs his empty bottles and walks back inside. 

His dad is still sitting at the table. 

“You didn’t have to wait up.” Talan tells him his voice hoarse from disuse. 

“There’s a plate for you in the fridge.” Ryan says, “You have to be starving.” 

Talan drops the beer bottles in the sink and looks towards the fridge. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast. 

“Sit.” Ryan says, “I’ll heat it up.” 

Talan does as he’s told, sits down in his usual spot and waits. 

“We can call your coach.” Ryan offers, “Say you’re-” 

“I don’t care.” Talan cuts him off, “Fuck it.” 

“Nah.” Ryan sits down in front of him, “Not for a girl.” 

“She fucking-” Talan tries and his voice breaks, “Oliver and-” 

He stops trying to explain why this isn’t just about some girl. He doesn’t want to cry. 

“Dad called him.” Ryan admits, “He’s-” 

“No.” Talan gets up, pushes his chair back and walks away. 

His room is remarkably unchanged, like his dads haven’t even tried to make it look like he’s moved out. The bed is made though and there aren’t any dirty dishes. The cleanliness feels foreign but Talan is too tired to really care. 

It takes ten minutes before someone knocks on his door. 

“Talan.” His other dad calls out, “I’m coming in.” 

He’s holding the plate from the fridge and drops it next to Talan on the bed. 

“Eat.” Michael orders. “We don’t have to talk.” 

Talan eats. Once he’s done dinner his dad pulls a chocolate bar from the pocket of his sweater and throws it at him. 

“We’ll figure it out in the morning?” Michael grabs the clean plate and puts it on Talan’s desk. “Get some sleep. We love you Pal.”

That’s all he says before he closes the lights and the door. Talan can hear him walk back down the hall towards the master bedroom. 

Talan waits until he can hear their bedroom door close before he gets out of bed and starts digging through drawers. 

He finds his weed exactly where he’d left it last summer. He grabs the old shaving kit and makes his way to the window. 

It’s stickier than it used to be and it takes him a minute to open it and pop out the screen. He slips out of his room and climb up on the roof until he gets to the flat spot where he’d spent most of high school getting stoned. 

He rolls the joint on his knee and the lighter takes a few tries to spark up. He wishes he had another beer. Wishes he was anywhere other than home. Wishes he could forget everything. 

He takes a drag from the joint and holds in the smoke for a few seconds before exhaling. Almost like the breaths he’d been taught to do to calm himself down during a panic attack. 

He doesn’t know what they’ll figure out in the morning.


End file.
